They passed the remainder of the trip in silence, each member of the party intent on reaching their destination. As they neared that goal, Andor felt Gillian’s head grow heavy against his chest. He wrapped a protective arm around her to keep her from falling, all the while cursing the sharp tongue which caused her to withdraw earlier.
A hundred times an apology formed, but each time he forced it back. By apologizing he would be admitting he was wrong for being angry at Freyda. In his heart he suspected he was, but his pride refused to let the anger go. He wanted...no, demanded an explanation just as soon as he returned to the Thing.
Two things prevented Andor from his showdown with Rollo and Freyda - exhaustion and the fact that they had both shut themselves inside their respective tents. It was for the best - something they could deal with in the privacy of their own home.
Gathering Gillian close, he slid from his horse while Seamus held the beast steady. Gillian barely stirred. From the corner of his eye, he saw Thora hurrying toward them. Burdened with Gillian, it was difficult to make too hasty a retreat for fear of tripping with her. He turned to ask Seamus to handle Thora, but the Irishman had already taken the horse away to be cared for. By the time Andor turned back around, Thora was standing before him, wringing her hands.
"What happened? Tell me all."
"In the morning." He stepped by.
Thora trotted alongside. "He is caught? He is dead?"
"No, to both questions. Now, please, Thora, the day has been long. The journey home tomorrow will also be long. Good night." He ducked inside his tent before she could say another word.
For a moment he thought she might follow. After laying Gillian on their furs, he tied the flaps closed. Then he curled his body around Gillian’s and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The tension was so heavy Gillian would swear she could see it hanging in the air. Andor spoke only to her, in clipped tones. Rollo and Freyda spoke sparingly to each other. Thora said nothing. All around them the other members of their party laughed and swapped stories of the Thing’s competitions. They seemed to not notice the friction in their leader’s family group. It was just as well, for the last thing needed right now was rumors.
It was only when they reached the farm that their mood lightened somewhat. Upon their arrival, Erik burst from the house and threw himself into Freyda’s arms. She hugged him tightly, trying to bury her face into his neck. As she hurried into the house, Gillian could see she was crying. She longed to offer her comfort of some kind, but Andor’s reprimand from the day before kept her still.
"Gillian, please settle Thora in the hall where she might have a little privacy," Andor asked. "I will retrieve the rest of her belongings while you do so."
"All I have is with me," Thora said.
"Very well then. Gillian will help you. Seamus, get Thora’s chest."
"You want her in the hall?" Gillian asked, puzzled. Why would the future mistress of the house be treated as no more than a guest?
"‘Tis only temporary," Andor replied. "I shall sail within the fortnight, and Thora will go with me."
Of course. Why bother to move in when she’ll be packing for a voyage soon? She supposed that their absence would be the time she was to move out. Thora could come home to a house free of the unnecessary turmoil of replacing one mistress with another. With that thought in mind, she grudgingly escorted Thora inside.
Jealousy was an alien emotion to Gillian. Never had she had such an intense dislike for another person. She was at a loss as to how to deal with it. Although tripping her held some appeal. If they were men, a duel would be appropriate...even expected. But as a woman, she was forced to hold her tongue.
"You can bed down over there." Gillian motioned to the pallet against the wall farthest from the hearth. "‘Tis close enough to keep warm yet far enough to be private."
Thora looked around. "‘Tis a very nice home Andor built. Of course, I will be making a few changes."
Gillian pursed her lips and kept her chin high. "I have no doubt you will. I will have Seamus bring your things in." As she turned to leave, Thora put in one last jab.
"I am glad you are taking this so well. I suppose you simply realize that someone as nobly born as Andor should not have a Gaedhil peasant girl for a wife."
Gillian clenched her fists by her side, fighting the temptation to hit Thora as hard as she could. In the end it was Freyda and Erik’s reappearance from their bed closet which made Gillian finally walk away. It was one of the hardest acts of self-control she ever had to exercise.
As she and Freyda set about preparing dinner, Gillian did her best to avoid close contact with Thora. It was relatively easy, for Thora sat to one side doing as little as possible to help.
Dinner itself was a tense meal. Not even Erik’s excited chatter lightened the atmosphere. Fortunately the child failed to notice. Andor waited until he was put to bed. When that was done, it was Freyda who opened the discussion. With eyes spewing fire and arms crossed over her chest, she stood over her brother.
"I believe you wished a word with me."
Andor stood to face her down. Freyda held her ground.
"Where is your head?"
"I did not announce to all what Rollo and I were doing. I expected the privacy of my tent to be honored. You had no right to burst in."
"I have every right...."
Freyda shoved her finger in his chest. "You had no right. I am a widow. Free to do as I please."
"And it pleases you to become like Tove?"
Freyda popped him across the face. Andor flinched in wide-eyed shock.
"How dare you? Do I not have the right to be happy? Am I to spend the rest of my days a lonely widow? Am I to never bear children again? Rollo is a decent man. He is offering me his love. Can I not accept that and be happy?"
"Olaf has not been dead a year," he said.
"How can you throw that in my face when you wed her," she jerked her head toward Gillian, "less than a fortnight after Astrid died?"
"That was different," he stubbornly replied. "I married Gillian to protect her."
It was the last thing Gillian needed to hear. Her reserve cracked.
"Why do you have to keep saying that?" she screamed.
All heads turned in her direction.
"I am sick of hearing you say that over and over again. I know why you wed me. I tried to make you a good home and be a good wife. And yet, all you can do is cite your duty in wedding me." Gillian crumpled to her knees as tears overwhelmed her. "I thought you might at least have found a little love in your heart for me. I guess it died with Gwynneth. I will leave soon. I have no wish to burden you any longer."
"Gillian...no." A second later he was on the floor, cradling her in his arms.
Freyda poised fists on hips. "I thought she understood."
"You had best get your own house in order before you worry over Freyda’s," Rollo grumbled.
Andor ignored them and tilted Gillian’s face toward his. "What is all this?"
"I do understand. That is why I will take my leave now. I cannot bear to live here any longer knowing she’s to be your new wife."
"Gillian, love, no. You do not understand. I care naught for Thora...only as one person does for another. I sought to protect her. No one is to replace you. You are my wife. I would not dishonor you."
"Truly?"
"Truly."
Yet, she did not lose touch with the fact that he had not said he loved her. He admitted loving Thora in the past. And the mysterious Tove. But for her all that bound him was duty. As he held her close and she cried, she kept hoping for the words that never came. She somehow managed to reign her tears to a halt, and shoved away from him.
"Then you had best tell Thora," she told him.
Andor looked from Gillian to Thora and back again. "Thora knows I have no interest in her."
Gillian snorted. "That I doubt. She called me a Gaedhil peasant. Said I had no right to be your wife. Said she would be making changes aroun
d here when she was mistress."
Andor looked to Thora once more.
Thora gave a light laugh and shrugged. "I do not know what she means. I have said no such thing. Perhaps the pressures of the last weeks have been too great."
Gillian stared at her in disbelief then flashed angry eyes at Andor. "Then why were you planning a trip with the likes of her?" She jerked her head toward Thora.
"To take her home to her family," he replied. "I had not planned to go without you. I thought the voyage might do you good. Clear your head."
"There is nothing wrong with my head!" She whirled around and stormed to her room, too angry now to even attempt to defend herself coherently.
"Poor Gillian," Freyda said with a shake of her head. "She has been through so much lately."
Thora made a tsking sound. "Leif probably tried to poison her mind with delusions."
"Which makes it all the more important to take her away for awhile," Andor said. "Yet, if she is not well, I worry the trip might harm her more."
"I shall be glad to care for her if the need arises," Thora said with a bright smile. "‘Twould be my way of repaying the debt I owe you."
Andor thanked her. "Then I shall make preparations to set sail within the week. Rollo, I trust my lands will be in your good hands in my absence."
Rollo tossed his head back in a humorless laugh. "He trusts me with his land, but not his sister."
"Freyda is more dear to me than all the land in the world. I worry for her welfare as any brother would. If she trusts herself in your hands, I have no choice but to abide by her wishes. The women in our family know their mind. I cannot change that. I would ask, though I have no right, that the two of you wed before I leave...For decency’s sake and to keep the gossips at bay. Would you consider that?"
The couple looked at each other for a long time, speaking with no words. Finally, Freyda gave Rollo a single nod. He turned to Andor.
"We shall be wed before you sail."
Gillian slipped into the hot tub of water for a leisurely bath. It would be her last one for...How long did it take to sail to Northland?
It was no matter. Toting all those buckets of hot water this predawn was going to be worth it. A nice, long bath to ease the tensions of the last week and the weeks to come.
By concentrating on preparing for the trip she had been able to avoid too much contact with Thora, but that would end in just a few hours. Just thinking about it grated on her nerves, making her more irritable than she had been.
Thora had already used her snappish attitude to her advantage. Once when Thora thought she had gone to sleep, Gillian caught her planting seeds of doubt as to her mental stability. From that point on, Gillian made certain she was the last person in bed and the first one awake. The pace was tasking her. Now she was going to be confined on Andor’s ship with that woman for however long this trip would take.
For a brief time - a very brief time - Gillian considered staying home. But doing so would give Thora unlimited time with Andor - time she would use to convince him she was unfit as a wife. Gillian refused to take that risk. Even though Andor had not professed any love for her, he was still her husband. And, for now, he had no intention of dissolving that relationship.
Gillian still clung to the hope of winning his love. She tried to convince herself she didn’t want the stigma of being divorced. That she couldn’t live with the shame of being cast down from mistress to tenant. That she needed the security being his wife gave. But all those reasons were false. Gillian wanted his love because she loved him more than her heart could bear.
You are going about it poorly if you expect to win his devotion. There was no doubt she worked hard around the home. She cared for him as any good wife would. But she knew heirs would one day become an issue. She still could not face the prospect of children - something Thora constantly talked about looking forward to in the future. That was the one thing Gillian could not fight Thora on.
She sighed, closed her eyes, and rested her head against the wooden tub. She was tired, so very tired. The water embraced her in a liquid blanket of warmth.
"Mind if I join you?"
Gillian jumped at the sound of Andor’s voice. He stood before her wrapped in one of their bed furs.
"I did not mean to startle you," he said. "I heard you preparing a bath and finally decided it was a good idea. May I?"
Without waiting for her to reply, he dropped the fur and stepped into the tub opposite of her.
"Feels good to relax." He draped her legs over his.
"That it does."
"I was surprised you were up so early after being up so late for Freyda and Rollo’s wedding feast. I believe you were the last to bed down. Even Thora called it an early night. I think she was glad to have the privacy of Rollo’s old bed closet...even if she did have to share it with Erik."
"Yes, I believe so." Thora could sleep with the cows as far as she was concerned. "Will we be leaving with the sunrise?"
"Everything is ready."
"And how long a trip might it be?"
"‘Tis almost summer so a safer course is possible," Andor said. "No more than a month or two total time. A short time there. Then to Hedeby. Then home. ‘Twill be late summer." He smiled. "By that time Rollo should have all the piping cast to bring the hot springs to us. No more toting buckets of hot water."
"That will be a real godsend." She sighed and relaxed once more against the tub.
Andor felt guilt overwhelm him. He’d never seen anyone look more weary than Gillian, and he cursed himself for not getting up to help her earlier. Instead, he had let his own exhaustion pull him back to sleep. By the time he realized what she’d done, it was too late to do anything more but enjoy the fruit of her hard labor. He laced his fingers through hers.
"Come to me." When she resisted, he added, "I just wish to hold you."
Gillian let him pull her close then rested with her back against his chest. She felt his length rise between them. God, how she wanted him! If he made a move to love her now, she knew she would be unable to resist him. Then she would curse herself afterward for taking a chance on pregnancy.
Andor congratulated himself on his restraint, even though doing so made him feel like he was ready to explode. He longed to kneel before her slender feet and tell her that he loved her more than life itself.
He would have searched the corners of the earth, traveled to the bowels of Niflheim, the land of the dead, to rescue her from Leif. He’d lie for her, cheat for her, steal and kill for her. He’d sell his soul for her. All for love. She was his life, his reason for existing. Yet he could not tell her for fear that she would feel cornered into intimacies, and he was as emotionally ill-prepared to bring another child into the world as she.
For now this was enough. He tucked her head under his chin, and tried to ignore that nagging ache. He wondered if this was the way of all parents who had lost a child. Within the month he’d be able to lay his woes at the feet of his own parents. Then he’d have the answers his grief sought.
To others he continued to justify this trip in an attempt to start a steady trade route. But in the troubled recesses of his mind he knew he was running away from a home which no longer held a baby’s giggle. Like a child, he was hurrying to his parents for help in fixing what was wrong - in healing what was hurt.
He wanted to be cared for. To pour out his heart. To expose his vulnerability to the only persons who would not judge him. With his parents he did not have to be a leader, or be strong. He just had to be a son.
"We would be more comfortable if we went to the hot spring," Gillian said.
"But not very safe. I have no wish to have my men stand guard while we bathe. And with Leif still free, ‘twould be foolish for us to go alone," he said.
"Must we live in fear of him forever?"
"I have hope he and the Gaedhil slave will be found while we are gone."
"What did you do with Brian and Dougall? I have not seen them since we returned."
/>
"They were punished and sold the morning we left the Thing," he replied. "If you sit up, I will scrub your back for you."
Gillian handed him the cake of soap. If he was going to make love to her, now would be the time he would start. She closed her eyes to enjoy the feel of hands rubbing sudsy circles on her back.
He should never have joined her. Each swipe of his hand across her back made him want to slip around to cup her breasts. He’d never known himself to possess such willpower. Fear of driving Gillian further away is what made him so honorable. So he took his time bathing her, all the while studying the slender curve of her neck.
He liked how she had piled her hair atop her head with combs to hold it in place. Stray tendrils curled around her face and upon her neck, framing her in ethereal beauty. One yank and the mass of coppery waves would tumble into his hands like a silken rain.
"Now you can do mine." He plopped the soap in her hands and turned his back to her.
Gillian stared at the cake for several seconds then turned to stare at his sun-bronzed back. Her eyes traced the contours while she lathered her hands. As if her fingers had a will of their own, she watched them travel the molded curves and angles before her. Over his shoulders, down his back, under his arms, around his waist, down to his buttocks, and back up again. Slowly. Around, down, and up. Over and over.
She closed her eyes and let her senses absorb the texture of his slickened skin. A vision of their bodies sliding together overtook her.
"By the gods, woman, I can take no more," Andor said through a clenched jaw.
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her beside him. His lips captured hers as he stretched back. When Gillian reached to run her fingers through his hair, he pushed her hand downward. She hesitated for a moment then, when his fingers drifted to hidden places, she knew what he wanted.
Andor sucked in a breath, but refused to release her lips or to stop his attentions. Together they caressed one another until a simultaneous explosion ended the moment.
When the time had passed, Andor felt empty. They had made love the only way possible for now. They had both satisfied the other. But something was missing - their souls had been untouched by this strange union. He didn’t have to ask if Gillian felt the same. He could tell by the faraway look in her eyes. Normally, after loving her, they would glow with an inner light.
The Quest for Gillian’s Heart Page 17
